


it never hurts to share

by Poose, seven_hells (Poose)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:36:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/Poose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/seven_hells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Val and Ygritte peg Jon one after the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it never hurts to share

She stopped by their tent every few days, when she tired of Mance's singing, or when Jarl went off hunting. It was better to be in the company of others than to be alone.   
  
Now Val did not often seek the company of women other than her sister, but the girl Ygritte was likable enough. Her crow-husband made excellent spiced wine, if Val could beg enough spice off Dalla.   
  
"Have you room for me?" she asked Ygritte, showing her the packet.   
  
"Of course," said the girl, who reached out her hand for the spices. Val looked at her crow who sulked and turned his head away as if in shame.   
  
"Have I interrupted?"   
  
"No," he said.   
  
Ygritte cocked her head. "A bit," she smiled. "But you've brought us a gift." She held the small bundle to her nose and inhaled before pressing it into his hand.   
  
"Come and sit." She patted the furs beside her, and to the boy said, "Make us some wine, Jon Snow. Val'll be cold, won't she? Walking all the way from t'other end of camp."   
  
"It's not too bad," Val said, putting her feet close to the fire nonetheless. "The wind blows from the south."   
  
The turncloak crow raked the embers and hung an iron pot above them, filling it from a wineskin. When he opened the packet the tent filled with the scent of spices.   
  
Ygritte glowered when he offered Val the first taste - kneeler manners, she supposed - but smiled up at him brightly when he dipped the spoon a second time and let her drink from it.   
  
"It's warm," she said. "Like a hot summer's day."   
  
"Hot?" Val asked, taking the cup offered her.   
  
"Aye," Ygritte said, pulling the furs over her legs. "Hot like this here fire, the sun shining bright. No ice, the sky clear so you'd like to see all the way to Hardhome." 

 

~

  
Dalla was not due for a moon's turn, and from the noises she was making in their tent, constantly, at all hours of the night, it would appear that Mance found her pregnancy enticing.   
  
"Ye gods," she muttered, kicking off the furs, when Dalla's voice began to crescendo as she reached her peak for the sixth bloody time that night.  
  
Jarl was asleep beside her, snoring as he always did.   
  
"Yes! Yes!" screamed her sister.   
  
Val stole her way across the encampment in frustrated silence and lifted the flap of Ygritte's tent to duck inside.   
  
The fire flickered low as Ygritte fucked Jon Snow on all fours in front of it.   
  
"Ye gods," she said, again.   
  
"Ygritte," choked the boy, as he caught sight of her. "Ygritte, please. She's here, in the tent."   
  
Ygritte let out a throaty laugh and rolled her hips, "So she is, Jon Snow. I can't like to tell which of you is blushing harder. Val's all right, I can see her face. You, though," she soothed, sliding her hands down his bare sides and thrusting in one more, "Well, if I could see your pretty face, Jon Snow, I imagine it'd be as pink as a spring wildflower."   
  
Val clutched at her skirts, stooping over before she realized that she was leaning in to get a better view of what Ygritte was doing. Naked, of course, they both were, only with the places switched. Leather thongs were wrapped around her waist and thighs, holding a cock of some description. Val had heard that such devices existed -- made of ivory, dragonglass, amber, even bone -- but had never thought to see one in such close proximity oer being wielded with such skill.   
  
Ygritte moved her hips slowly and the boy groaned. His eyes were slammed shut and his mouth lolled open, lips pink in an even pinker face - Ygritte had been right about that. His blush flamed hot until Ygritte's movements sent him forward into his forearms and Val could no longer catch sight of it. 

  
"Is that yours?" Val asked, stepping closer to see.   
  
"Carved it m'self," she said, "when he came along."   
  
Val watched as Ygritte spread her small hands across the small of the boy's back and talked to him as she might a frightened foal.   
  
"It's all right, Jon Snow. I'm here, right here. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."   
  
A hollow moan escaped from his throat. Val saw her hand slip between his legs. He twisted as if to escape her touch and then came with a strangled sound that began as her name and ended with a cry.   
  
Val's knuckles were white when she finally realized she had not unclenched them. Her head was light, her fingers atingle with new blood, and though she had a fur slung round her shoulders, her skin prickled with cold sweat.   
  
Ygritte rolled him onto his back and straddled him, her thin freckled legs entwined with his thick ones. She licked his ear and asked, "should we let Val have a go?"   
  
"I'm sorry--" Val started, stopping short at the look Ygritte gave her, harsh as any long winter. "Don't be sorry," she commanded. "He's a pretty lad, we can share him. Would you like that," she asked him, rubbing her small breasts over his chest. His hand sought her, cupped her, as she slid atop him.   
  
"He's said so," she told Val, "how beautiful he thinks you are."   
  
Val blushed despite herself. "Oh?" she said, casually. "And he mentioned this, as well?"   
  
Ygritte sat up on her heels, the cock jutting out from below her belly. "He'll do anything we like," she said, "And he'll blush and scowl and go red in the face, but he'll love every minute of it. And when it's over he'll be back on his knees before an hour's passed, begging you for more. Isn't that right, Jon Snow?" she said, touching his soft cock with her thumb.   
  
"Ygritte," he stuttered. "I do not wish to dishonor you."   
  
"You and your kneeler's honor," she scoffed, beckoning Val over. "I may not have truly stolen you, crow, but I've never known you to say no to anything I've yet to offer, including this."  
  
Val sank to her knees and moved closer to the pair. "Is this what you want?" she asked of him, and he closed his eyes as if in shame. He nodded, once, so slightly she could hardly see it. Val felt a rush of affection for him, in his fear of her, his face full of tamped down desire, and without asking Ygritte's permission she leaned over to kiss him full on his full lips.

His mouthed opened easily beneath her own, falling further open when she brought a hand to his curls, soft and dark as lambswool. The kiss began shallow and then deepened as she plunged her tongue in his mouth. He thrashed as Ygritte touched him, using her mouth on him, and Val had to pull back and flick her tongue against his teeth as Ygritte sucked him, just to hear his little moans and noises.   
  
"Do you want to?" the other girl asked, her voice raspy.   
  
Val looked over Jon Snow, eyes dark and body pliant.   
  
"Show me how," she said.   
  
Ygritte helped her remove her fur and dress and undertunics. "You can leave those on," she said, of Val's smallclothes, but it seemed unfair for them to be naked and her own body covered, so she removed them as well.   
  
"Hold still," Ygritte told her, and Val felt the leather straps winding pleasurably around her hips, her legs, her waist. They were warm from Ygritte's body, had molded to her smaller shape. She had to laugh when she saw the final effect - it looked ridiculous - but she was the only one who laughed.   
  
Ygritte knelt behind her, and she knelt before him.  _We are both of us kneelers now,_ she thought,  _but 'tis no matter._  
  
"He wants it, Val," she breathed against her neck, "Look at how bad he wants your cock in his arse."   
  
As if obeying a command he shifted his hips up slightly; Val could just see through the dark hair where she would enter him.   
  
"He's nice and open, I made well sure of that," she purred, placing her hands on Val's hips and helping her position herself.   
  
"How?" Val asked, turning with concern to Ygritee. "How do I do it?"   
  
"That's easy enough," she smiled against her neck. "All you have to do is fuck him. Fuck him the way you like it."  
  
"Oh," he sighed, when she pressed against his entrance, "Oh, gods, Ygritte."   
  
"Val won't hurt you, Jon Snow," she said, soothing him. And then nodding to Val, "Go on, give him a little more."   
  
Inch by inch she pushed inside, wondering how it felt for him, if it was different from when Jarl took her in the rear or more or less the same, if it hurt, if he liked it.   
  
"Move," Ygritte said, fitting Val's bottom to her own front and helping her set a pace. "There," she said, when the cock was sliding in and out at a languid pace, exactly the way Val would like it when she was on her back. "See, just there, you can see it bounce when you do that, look." They watched his cock flex up each time she thrust in, and Ygritte was right, it was intoxicating, that power. Ygritte's voice was breathless, her small hand reaching for Val's hip, Jon's side, anything she could touch.   
  
And so it did, it moved and flexed like a living thing as she drove into him, and the beauty of it - the power of making him writhe and sob beneath her filled her stomach with liquid fire. Ygritte slid her hand beneath the straps. Val hunched forward onto Jon's chest, hotter than she had ever been as she twitched and writhed. Ygritte's other hand reminded her to keep going, a gentle pressure on her lower back, moving her hips into him. Val fell between Jon's open thighs and kissed his pale chest.   
  
"Come on, Jon Snow," teased Ygritte, whose hand was between them once more, wrapped around his cock, stroking in the same time as Val fucked into him, "Don't keep our lovely Val waiting."   
  
"I can't, it's too soon," he sobbed, but his cries were in vain as he spilled warm between their bodies. When she withdraw the cock he winced, but he bore it well for the most part. His eyes were glassy and kept drifting shut.  
  
They lay in a tangled heap, Val and Ygritte taking turns kissing Jon, until they heard the birds begin to sing. 

 


End file.
